


She's Like A Rainbow

by MooseFeels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Sensory Deprivation, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:11:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is terrifying and overwhelming and intense and sometimes the only thing that sets it right is a good lay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Like A Rainbow

Castiel pulled out the ribbons and handed them to Dean. They were soft and dusky pink. Dean had found them in a dance store- some costume piece meant to go up the leg. They were long and strong and fine.

“Please,” Castiel said.

Dean nodded, assenting.

They’d arranged what this meant long ago, written it all out clearly and talked extensively. Exactly what a night with the ribbons would entail, what Castiel wanted and what Dean would give him.

Castiel lay down on the bed and he spread his arms. Dean sat on the bed so that he straddled Castiel and wrapped the wrists to that they would be cushioned against the iron bars. He tied them so that he was held up. Dean placed a pillow under Castiel’s head so that he would be cushioned. Cradled.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

Castiel nodded, assenting.

Dean walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs to where the records were. He flipped through them, the sound of the flat cases a percussive flick-flick-flick. He was running through them, and then he paused. Smiled.

Pulled out Hot Rocks and walked back into the bedroom.

Placed the record on the player and dropped the needle, the position of it and the song like a physical memory.

The sound of the song was warbling and loose, and Dean frowned. He looked down at the label on the record and smirked.

“You little shit,” he muttered. “You’ve been putting them in the wrong cases again.”

Castiel had the decency to blush, turn his leg inward slightly. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured softly. “I won’t do it again.”

The ribbons matched the cotton panties he wore, and both of them managed to match the color of his lips. Pinky-brown and dark and flush and beautiful.

“I love you, do you know that?” Dean said.

Castiel nodded. “Please,” he said. “Please.”

Dean stopped talking.

Castiel wanted the ribbons on days when he found the world too loud. It didn’t happen as much as it once did, but the thing that clung to him after he was cast from heaven was that sensitivity. Sometimes, it was a good thing. Sometimes he could taste every idea that made the strawberry or every scent suspended in the coffee. Sometimes, he heard air in the orchestra’s lungs. The terror of it faded- he no longer woke up unable to breathe for the smell of the air- but he still could not hear, some days. Would be up through the night for the sound of the secretion of his own pancreas or the rumble of the neighbor’s snoring, five miles away.

Sex helped, though. It really did. Nothing cleared his brain quite like sex- like the rhythm of Dean inside of him or the blinding light of an orgasm.

The record was Dean’s idea, and that helped, too. That was what did it, really.

Dean sat down on the bed and kissed at Castiel’s neck, the soft space right over his pulse. Nuzzled at it softly, nipped at it just enough to tease. Dean slid out of his shirt and pants and straddled Castiel. Lay over his body and kissed and bit and sucked at his check and his belly and his hips. Castiel sighed softly and Dean looked up- concerned.

Castiel smiled and nodded. Dean smiled back and began to ease his way down a bit.

There was something overwhelming and unbearably and perfect to the feeling of Dean’s teeth as they tore ever so slightly at his skin, tugging his underwear down. Castiel was beginning to lose himself in the sound of his speeding heartbeat and his aching lungs.

He shut his eyes. Watching was too much.

There was a way, Dean had noticed, Castiel’s breathing changed when he was overwhelmed in a good way. He stopped breathing so much as gasping and panting and crying air.

When he felt the coolness of the bedroom air on his cock and sudden warmth of Dean’s mouth over it, he could not stop himself from sobbing.

Dean was so good- Dean was a perfect cocksucker.

Castiel groaned and cried and breathed his way through it, trying so hard to stay quiet. Trying so hard to stay grounded and close and with the world.

The record played, and the song warbled and droned.

She comes in colors when she goes.

Castiel came in Dean’s mouth, and he suddenly felt...sane. Calm.

Dean rose up, his mouth all salty, and he smiled.

“Hey, honeybee,” he whispered. “There you are.”

Castiel smiled fondly at him. “Hello, Dean,” he said. He looked down at the erection tenting Dean’s underwear and pressing against his leg. “Would you like me to help you with that?”

Dean kissed his cheek and untied the ribbons.

 

 


End file.
